


To Hold

by Firondoiel



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Gen, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Pre-Slash If You Squint, Worried Qui-Gon Jinn, Written for the QuiObi Writing Discord
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:47:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firondoiel/pseuds/Firondoiel
Summary: H/C Prompt FillsPrompt 1: "Oh Force, you're bleeding."
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52
Collections: QuiObi Writing Discord Prompt Fills





	To Hold

“Let's move out.”

Plan settled, Qui-Gon strode towards the door, stopping just before reaching it. He could sense that Obi-Wan was not following. 

“We have to hurry if we’re going to head them off,” he said over his shoulder.

No answer. 

Qui-Gon turned. Obi-Wan hadn’t moved, still leaning against the table like he had been for the entire debrief. A strange look coming over his face as his glassy eyes stared at nothing. 

“Obi-Wan?” 

Unexpectedly, Obi-Wan’s shields came crashing down. Confusion flooded into the bond. Confusion and pain. A quick warning of fading strength right before Obi-Wan listed sideways. 

Qui-Gon caught him before he fell.

“Obi-Wan?” 

Heat burned through Obi-Wan’s damp clothing, heavy with sweat. Qui-Gon lowered them both to the floor, adjusting his hold so he could see Obi-Wan’s face. Disoriented eyes blinked up at him for a moment, then Obi-Wan’s head lolled against Qui-Gon’s arm. 

Had he been that pale before? Surely not. He had seemed fine, if not weary. They all were tired after the ambush earlier, but now Obi-Wan seemed to rapidly deteriorate as Qui-Gon watched. 

“Obi-Wan? Can you hear me?” Qui-Gon searched through the bond, not waiting for a response. Obi-Wan’s Force signature was sluggish. Much duller than its usual brilliance. Following the signs in the Force, Qui-Gon ran his hand down Obi-Wan’s side--freezing when his fingers touched something wet soaking through the thick Padawan robe. Something warm. 

He didn’t bother looking at his fingertips before pushing the robe aside. He didn’t need the ominous flash of red to know what he was about to find. 

“Oh Force, you’re bleeding.” Horror roughened Qui-Gon’s voice. The brown stain on Obi-Wan’s clothes spread from under his arm, over his hip bone, and down to his upper thigh. Some of it already dried. Obi-Wan had been slowly bleeding out under his robe all this time. 

And was still bleeding out. Qui-Gon clamped his hand around Obi-Wan’s side, wincing in sympathy as agony ripped through the bond, and Obi-Wan cried out. 

“Get the medic,” Qui-Gon barked at the open door, knowing a young sergeant stood just outside. “Quickly.” 

“Master?” 

“Try to lie still.” Qui-Gon gentled his tone. “You’ve been injured.”

Obi-Wan nodded, clarity returning after the shock of pain. He moaned, but did not pull away when Qui-Gon put more pressure on the wound.

“This happened in the skirmish?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t stop by medical?” 

“Wasn’t that bad.” Obi-Wan hissed out a labored breath. “Wasn’t time.” 

Qui-Gon felt his padawan attempt to release his pain into the Force but struggle from exhaustion. He was drained from maintaining his shields even as his body weakened. Still, it was far too soon for infection. 

Panic gurgled in the back of Qui-Gon’s mind, but he ignored it and tightened his grip on Obi-Wan. He spoke to him quietly, murmuring things he used to say to the young boy who had a fever or his first serious injury. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and sagged in Qui-Gon’s arms, but Qui-Gon sensed him latch onto his voice. 

He sent gentle pulses of strength through the bond, ignoring when Obi-Wan protested that Qui-Gon needed to preserve his energy. 

“Hush now,” he hummed. “Let your master decide his own limitations for now.”

The appearance of the medic interrupted any further argument. Things started to move quickly, blurring before Qui-Gon’s eyes, like he was merely an observer. Watching his arms lift Obi-Wan and ease him onto the table at the medic’s instructions. Seeing his hand brush over the short hairs on Obi-Wan’s head. Hearing the medic’s voice come from far away confirming his fear. 

The blade used had been poisoned, apparently a common tactic for this enemy. The toxin first numbed the flesh around the stab wound to cloak the severity of the injury. Once it wore off, the victim would be going into shock, often too late to seek help. 

_Focus._

“Will he live?” The curtness of his own voice sliced through the roaring in his ears, yanking his senses back into crystalline awareness. 

The medic briefly paused giving directions to his aides to make eye contact with Qui-Gon. “We’ll know in the next couple of hours.” 

Qui-Gon’s heart thudded, but he nodded and pushed up his sleeves. “What can I do?”

“Master.” Obi-Wan snagged the end of Qui-Gon’s left sleeve. “You have to go.”

“Obi-Wan...” The buzzing panic he had been suppressing dropped into his stomach. A heavy, sickening weight.

“You have to stop them. You know you do.” Obi-Wan’s face--now gaunt--was set with familiar determination. “I’ll be fine.” 

They both knew it might be an empty promise.

_There is no death, there is the Force._

Qui-Gon exhaled loudly, his shoulders collapsing as he relented. 

Obi-Wan’s braid caught his eye, hanging off the side of the table. He picked it up and draped it over Obi-Wan’s shoulder, running his fingers along it before letting go. 

“May the Force be with you, Master,” Obi-Wan said softly. His eyes were clouding over again, but he steadily held Qui-Gon’s gaze, so many unsaid words lingering between. 

“Padawan...Obi-Wan, I-” And there wasn’t time to voice them now. No matter how much Qui-Gon yearned to say them. He settled his hand over Obi-Wan’s shoulder and squeezed. “May the Force be with you.”

He had to turn away quickly and walk to the door without looking back, drawing the mission to the forefront of his thoughts. If he let his focus stray again, he would not be able to leave, and his opponents already had a sizable head start. He honed in on the will of the Force, letting it guide him as he started to run.

Amid his determined concentration, Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan slip into unconsciousness just as he left the camp.


End file.
